Page 56 of Blindsided
The offer is tempting—more tempting than I want to admit. But the thought of sitting alone in some strange hotel room while Kane and his family walk into potential danger doesn’t sit right with me.
“I’m coming with you,” I say firmly. “I’ve come this far.”
“Your funeral,” Rory chirps.
“Not helping,” Kane growls.
Rory shrugs. “Just being realistic. We don’t know what we’re walking into.”
“All the more reason to stick together,” I point out. “Safety in numbers, right?”
“Unless we’re all walking into a trap,” Rory counters.
“Again, not helping,” Kane says, more forcefully this time.
Rory falls silent, focusing on the increasingly rough road. We’ve turned onto what’s barely more than a dirt track, winding through dense woodland. The trees press close on either side, branches occasionally scraping against the car windows like skeletal fingers.
“Charming location,” I comment, peering into the gathering gloom of the forest. “Looks like a horror movie.”
“Wait till you see the castle,” Rory says. “It makes this place look positively welcoming.”
“Is it actually a castle?” I ask, imagining stone towers and drawbridges. “Or more like a big house?”
“Somewhere in between,” Kane answers. “It was built in the 16th century as a defensive structure, but it’s been modified over the centuries. The last major renovation was in the Victorian era, when the MacGallans were at the height of their power.”
“And when exactly did the family get into the, uh, import-export business?” I ask, using their euphemism.
Kane and Rory exchange another look.
“The MacGallans have always been entrepreneurs,” Rory says diplomatically. “Finding opportunities where others see obstacles.”
“So... smugglers since forever, then.”
Kane laughs. “Pretty much. Though they prefer ‘creative business solutions.’”
“Is that what’s on the family crest? ‘Creative business solutions since 1516’?”
“Actually, it’s ‘Fortune favors the bold,’” Rory says seriously. “But your version has a nice ring to it.”
The trees suddenly thin, and we emerge into a clearing that affords a view of the valley below. And there, nestled against a rocky hillside, stands Dragon Castle.
Even from this distance, I can see why it earned its name. The structure sprawls across the landscape, its gray stone walls following the contours of the hill, resembling a sleeping dragon. Two towers rise like horns from what would be the dragon’s head, and a long wing stretches out like a tail along the ridge.
“Wow,” I breathe, genuinely impressed. “That’s...”
“Creepy as hell?” Kane suggests.
“I was going to say ‘impressive,’ but creepy works too.”
Rory slows the car as we begin the descent into the valley. “Declan and the others should be approaching from the other side. We’ll meet at the main gate.”
“Is there anyone living nearby?” I ask, noticing the complete absence of other buildings in the valley.
“Not anymore,” Rory says grimly. “The nearest village is about five miles away, open space from here to there. During the Troubles, this whole area was essentially abandoned.”
“Perfect place to hide someone you don’t want found,” Kane murmurs, staring at the castle with an intensity that makes me wonder what he’s thinking.
As we get closer, the castle looks even more imposing. Parts of it are clearly in disrepair—a section of roof missing here, a collapsed wall there—but the main structure remains intact, a testament to the builders’ skill. The stone is darker than I expected, almost black in places, giving the whole place an ominous air that’s enhanced by the gathering twilight.
